Weathering the Storm
by beadedheart
Summary: For all his cowardice, there are two people in this world that Gold could be brave for. After just getting one of them back from the dead, he wasn't about to let her get herself killed racing around in a magic storm like a lunatic…no matter how angry she was with him. Sort of a belated semi-fix-it for the premiere. Oneshot.


**Summary: For all his cowardice, there are two people in this world that Gold could be brave for. After just getting one of them back from the dead, he wasn't about to let her get herself killed racing around in a magic storm like a lunatic…no matter how angry she was with him. Sort of a belated semi-fix-it fic for the premiere.**

* * *

"I thought you'd changed." She said, all well-meaning reproof and glistening eyes.

"What, in the hour you've known me?" He spat back, as if she was just another bothersome insect who had made the wrong deal.

He didn't think, didn't bother to remember that she had spent the last twenty-eight years a prisoner, that she had never intentionally left him. No doubt he would've changed for her, if she could've been here. Her expression melted into a mask of hurt that brought him jolting back to his senses. This was Belle. What was wrong with him?

Already she was at the door, her shoulders just as stiff as when he had driven her away the first time. He stared after her, his heart leaping in his chest when she glanced back at him.

"Belle, I…I'm sorry. Belle, I'm sorry, I am." He said, his voice plaintive.

She allowed him only a pained grimace before rushing out, the door rattling shut behind her.

He slumped in defeat, leaning heavily on his thrice-blasted cane. He'd lost her. Again. There was no way she would return to him a second time. And he had only himself to blame.

He stared blankly at the floor, feeling wilted, old, for the first time since the Savior's arrival and he found himself craving something more comforting even than drowning himself in scotch while staring helplessly at her cup.

He needed his spinning wheel.

It was buried under a tarp deep in his storage room where no one (like that charlatan August Booth) would disturb it, but he was confident he could unearth it with minimal trouble. He would spin and wait and simultaneously hope for and dread Belle's return.

Plan made, he straightened, eyes straying to the door for one more glance at the last space Belle inhabited before he went to the back.

He looked hopefully through the window…and stopped.

The wind was howling, debris flying practically horizontally past the safety of his shop. Lost in his self-flagellation and unending patheticness he had forgotten about the havoc the wraith…his wraith…was wreaking on Storybrooke.

It was a disaster. And Belle was out in the thick of it.

Almost before he realized it he was at the door, yanking it open and striding into the torrent with all the speed a miserable, monstrous old cripple could muster.

* * *

He hurried down the Main Street, ducking an airborne signboard and clawing angrily at a newspaper that plastered itself to his face. His eyes frantically roved the deserted streets, desperate for any sign of a blue clad figure through the destruction.

"BELLE!" He cried, voice echoing strangely off the warped wreckage. "Belle!"

There was no sign of her, even here in the middle of town. He stood defeated in front of the abandoned library, oblivious to the wind snarling his hair and plucking at his suit.

How could he have been so _stupid?_ She was brand new to this world, not to mention just so recently restored to him, and he just let her go. He couldn't even make it a full day without hurting her again…not even a measly twenty-four hours. He really was a monster.

He sighed, raking back his hair with a trembling hand and fighting off the encroaching despair.

A quiet sound, like the lilting of a flute, interrupted his brooding.

"Rumple?" A voice breathed incredulously from behind him.

He whirled around in surprise to see Belle poking her head cautiously out of the boarded up door of the library.

"What are you doing out in this mess?" She cried, running out and herding him inside. "You could be killed!"

His heart clenched painfully. She was still trying to take care of him, even in her (completely justified) anger. _Some things never change._

She escorted him into the open area in the center of the library and turned to face him. Her hair was tangled, her dress wrinkled, and her face was lit by moonlight that was filtered through a crack in the boarded up windows. She was a mess and she was still beautiful to him.

Seemingly oblivious to his distraction, she was looking at him angrily, fists clenched at her sides. He had the strangest urge to duck his head like an errant schoolboy.

"What were you thinking Rumple?!" She finally asked, her voice strained with frustration.

"I was coming to find you dearie." He said, almost apologetically. "Couldn't very well let you get yourself killed…no matter how much you hate me, now could I?"

Her face softened, fists unclenching, and she sighed. "I don't hate you Rum. I just…" She said, eyes plaintive.

He held up a hand, knowing where this was going. "It's alright dearie. No need to spare an old monster's feelings. I understand. I only wanted to make sure you were safe. Which you are. It's clear you've found your place." He said, gesturing to the books surrounding them, defeat lacing his voice. "I'll leave you now."

"Wait!" She cried, making him look up in surprise. Her expression was so confused. "What do you mean you'll leave me now? Are…are you breaking up with me?" She asked, horrifying him.

"Of course not dearie. But I couldn't imagine you'd want to come home after today…I imagined you'd want to end things with me."

"What?" She said, expression growing indignant. "Don't be ridiculous Rumpelstiltskin! I only just found you. After waiting twenty-eight years and more to be with you again you can't really think I'd leave you so easily."

She stepped forward, reaching out to clasp his hands in her own and tilting her head shyly. She rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles in soothing circles.

"It's just…you were so honest with me when the curse first broke. You told me how you felt like you never had before…so I thought…since it looks like you're not cursed with the Dark One anymore…" She fumbled, blushing prettily.

"You thought I'd changed." He said, understanding washing over him.

"In retrospect it was maybe expecting a bit much." She said sheepishly, looking up at him from under her lashes.

A silence grew between them and it occurred to Rumpelstiltskin that this was his chance…perhaps his last chance. He could reveal everything, what it was all for, to her right now. If not…he was certain he'd lose her. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day even Belle would have to choose herself first.

He had to be brave.

He took a deep breath, squeezing her hands in his. "Oh Belle, it wasn't much. It really wasn't. And I'm sorry." He said, face crumpling.

"I'm just so sorry. I've lost so much Belle. I lost my wife, my son,…I lost you Belle. Because of my own fear and stupidity. And I was so _angry_. At the whole world. And I've had a long time, so long, to think about what I did wrong with you. I never should have sent you away Belle." He flinched when a quiet sob met his ears but he pressed on.

"And I know now that I love you and that you love me. I know it's True Love. But I still deal and trick and put myself at odds with everyone else. And I prefer it that way. So, no…I haven't changed. Not truly." He took another deep breath. "But I'm willing to try now."

She gasped, her eyes locking on his, a breathless hope filling them. She was getting carried away, he could see, and he jumped in quickly before she got her hopes up too much. He'd hate to see them dashed again.

"I don't mean to say I can change completely dearie. I won't stop dealing…it's who I am. But I can maybe stop making deals that will hurt people. Perhaps." His face hardened. "And no matter what, no matter how angry you get with me, I **will** protect those I care about Belle. I'll protect you whether you like it or not. And…"

She rested a hand on his chest, right over his heart, forestalling him as his own doubts started to flood his head. "No, no Rum, I understand. It's enough, it's so much more than I hoped for, that you're even willing to try. I don't want to change _you_ Rumpelstiltskin. I fell in love with you so why would I want you to be other than who you are? But I need to _know _who you are. I want to be on your side. I will be on your side. You just have to let me. Tell me the truth. Let me be a part of your plans and your life. Just let me in."

He smiled, a weight seeming to lift from his shoulders. "I will dearie. I promise." And he did. He told her about his life and his son, about why he needed magic and power, he told her about everything.

All the way back to their home.

* * *

**A/N: This has been on my mind for a while. Finally found the motivation to finish it. And I think I understand a bit more why the language between Rumbelle has been so stilted this season. Honesty and affection are strange colors on Rumple. They don't quite fit and it makes it hard to write. I hope I managed to stay true to who he was. I'd love to hear what you thought!**


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